


Tasting Flights: Hannibal Drabbles

by canis_m



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pokemon Fusion, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Harm to Animals, M/M, Omega Verse, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 08:12:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8741950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canis_m/pseuds/canis_m
Summary: Season 1 rewatch drabbles--one per episode--and miscellaneous others.  The "Major Character Death" tag applies to S01E11: “Rôti” only.





	1. S01E01: “Apéritif”

“How did you know?” demanded Will, rounding toward the dingy breakfast table. Hannibal paused.

“Beg pardon?”

“How did you know I’m–- _what I am?_ Unless you’re–-” He broke off, hand flailing.

Between one blink and the next the figure of Will Graham was gone. Instead a small feliform creature perched amid rumpled boxer shorts on the foot of the bed.

It stared at Hannibal with accusatory eyes.

Hannibal cocked his head. “Unless I were like you?”

Risky, to reveal himself so soon, but he was charmed beyond reason. He transformed, and the mongoose chittered at the lion in the room.


	2. S01E02: “Amuse-Bouche”

Hannibal halted, arrested by the bright orange fluted caps on a vendor’s table. Other patrons of the market moved past without consequence, disjointed blurs.

“What beautiful chanterelles.” Hannibal lifted one to his nose. He fingered the ridges along its underside, inhaled the faint fragrance of apricots. Lucky to find them so late in the season. He unfolded his tote. “Two boxes, please.” For _velouté Agnes Sorel,_ made golden with saffron and Armagnac. The color of a young receptionist’s sun-warmed shoulders. She had been very fit. “Thank you, Mr.–-”

“Stammets,” said the man.

Hannibal smiled pleasantly. “I’ll look for you again.”


	3. S01E03: “Potage”

She watched as if from far away as he pressed her body to the tines. There had been pain before, until pain and breath together left her. Now there was no pain and nothing to be done. No stones to throw, even if she could’ve lifted them.

She left the man to his contemptuous arrangement, and went down.

The door stood open to moonlight. A line of pale inscription trailed across the floor, drifting between her and outside: _do not cross._ She passed it by.

Outside the doe was standing, unafraid, limned in gold and waiting for her to ride.


	4. S01E04: “Oeuf”

“Are you hungry? Hannibal made breakfast for dinner.”

Will sank into the chair Hannibal had offered him. “Sausage and eggs?” He glanced sideways. “That’s the first thing you ever fed me.”

“And it’s the first meal the three of us will eat together,” said Hannibal, taking his seat. “Breakfast is comfort food. To break one’s fast is to end a period of hunger and privation. Fasts are made to be broken.”

“Like teacups,” said Abigail, dreamy.

“Eggs for rebirth.” Hannibal unfolded his napkin.

“And sausage?”

“Sometimes a sausage is just a sausage, Will,” said Hannibal, all innocence, and Abigail beamed.


	5. S01E05: “Coquilles”

“I tried. Went to Jack’s office with the letter in my pocket. Then he was just…sitting there. In a chair against the wall. Staring into space.”

“Will you try again?”

“I couldn’t do it then. Couldn’t add to his burdens. It’s not like the burdens will evaporate if I wait. I dumped the letter in a shred bin.” A furtive glance at Hannibal’s robe and pajamas: chagrin, deja vu. “Sorry I didn’t call first.”

“What have I told you about apologies?”

“Okay, fine. Not sorry.” Will smiled downward, angling his tumbler in the firelight. “Good whiskey, by the way.”


	6. S01E06: “Entrée”

He’d slept, the night before-–if not as well as he used to, well enough to feel clear-headed at the scene. Too clear-headed.

That evening he let the dogs out as he always did. Ellie, the little poodle mix, came back limping. Will held her and murmured as he pulled the cocklebur from her paw.

He slept again that night, an hour or two, before waking from a dream of Ellie gazing up at him, trusting, while he leaned and pressed his thumbs to her soft eyes until they gave like soft fruits, and he whispered to her _shh, shh._


	7. S01E07: “Sorbet”

Will thought his _date with the Ripper_ line would put a stopper in the invitations, but Hannibal was undeterred.

“Can’t he spare you? Just for an evening?”

“He’s not in the business of sparing,” Will said.

“Perhaps you could persuade him. Like Scheherazade, night by night.”

“He’s a performer. He wants an audience, not a storyteller.”

“A story is a glimpse into the teller’s mind. Scheherazade entranced the king with glimpses. The man who kept Jack Crawford’s clever trainee to himself might be enthralled by an even finer mind.”

Smiling, helpless, Will shook his head and handed over the wine.


	8. S01E08: “Fromage”

Will picked up the spoon and stared, not at the pudding but at his hand. It was filthy, coated with the dust of bludgeoned brick and mortar. His nails were dark moons of grime. He hadn’t cleaned up before leaving home. Now he was in Hannibal’s pristine kitchen, about to eat Hannibal’s pristine dessert.

His dad’s voice rasped: _you wash your hands before supper, boy?_

The voice was in his head. The grime was real. The hole he’d smashed in the fireplace, real. Alana had seen it, she’d been real. And the kiss–-

He muttered and made for the washroom.


	9. S01E09: “Trou Normand”

Hannibal seated Will-–not Ms. Lounds–-at his right hand, in the place of the guest of honor, though he feared the distinction was lost on all but himself.

Cheeky vegetarianism aside, the dinner was a success. It pitted Will against a hated foe, an outsider, redirecting his bitterness. His frown persisted well after Ms. Lounds had left, as together they cleared the table.

Hannibal indicated Will’s glasses. “Having trouble with your eyesight?”

Will glowered on. “I need a barricade between me and her. Otherwise things’ll just get uglier.”

A shame these dinners wouldn’t become a regular affair, thought Hannibal.


	10. S01E10: “Buffet Froid”

Will was joyous on the phone, babbling with relief. No patient had ever been happier to be diagnosed with an autoimmune inflammation of the brain.

“He showed me the scan. The entire right hemisphere was flaming red. Like–-like a storm on a satellite tracker. The kind that spawns tornadoes. But it’s treatable, he said. We caught it in time. Oh, my God.” A muffled whump, as if Will had suddenly sat. “I was so. I was scared they wouldn’t find anything.”

So the good Dr. Sutcliffe had gotten cold feet, then, thought Hannibal. They would soon be colder still.


	11. S01E11: “Rôti”

A call came within the hour from Baltimore PD. A vehicle registered in his name had been involved in a collision, and the driver was–-

“Dead?” repeated Hannibal.

The vehicle had run a red light. A truck had struck it on the driver’s side. Hannibal listened, distant, part of his mind already composing his statement.

Another seizure, then. Of course a patient prone to seizures should not have been behind the wheel. He had deemed it an acceptable risk.

His hand closed and reopened. Even now it retained the feel of Will’s hair, Will’s brow, hot with fever, with life.


	12. S01E12: “Relevés”

The robe was plaid flannel, soft despite newness. Will crawled out of bed and disentangled from the IV. 

“I couldn’t find a dressing gown among your things,” said Hannibal, apologetic, with a gesture toward the Nordstrom box. "So I took the liberty. Hospitals can feel cold, even to the feverish.“

When Will slid it on, the robe engulfed him: big, warm, generous enough to vanish into. He wrapped it closed across his chest. His voice rasped. "I steal your car, and you go out and buy me lounge wear?”

Hannibal’s eyes on him, too, were soft. "What are friends for?“


	13. S01E13: “Savoureux”

Will’s throat felt like bruised fruit, rotting from inside out. It hurt to speak, to think. To think of what was real.

“Will,” murmured Hannibal, “what’s in your sink is real. We both know what that means.”

He was kneeling beside the chair. The shape of him blurred and quavered. Will shrank into the blanket, but his chin gave a downward jerk. 

As if the admission had triggered it, a wave of shivers racked him. He saw blood in the woods, blood on antlers. Felt stag’s breath on his neck.

Something in the set of Hannibal’s mouth changed. He rose. His hand touched the blanket over Will’s arm.

“You have a choice now, Will.” His voice was soft. "We can call Jack, tell him what happened. Or you can clean up, get dressed. I’ll tidy things here.“ A nod to the kitchen. "And we’ll go.”

Will swallowed the rawness of his throat. "Go,“ he said. "Go where?”

“Away,” said Hannibal. "Far from here.“ His eyes were black, growing blacker. "Is that what you want?”

Tremors took Will as if he were seizing. The press on his shoulder grew warm. His chin bobbed again.

“Then we won’t call Jack,” Hannibal said.


	14. Vegan Hannibal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By request from weconqueratdawn.

“What am I putting in my mouth?” asked Jack. 

“Seitan,” said Hannibal. “Consumed in China since the sixth century. According to legend, it was created by imperial chefs to serve to the emperor during periods of ritual abstinence." 

Jack’s fork didn’t move. He looked down at the mock duck curry. "You’re feeding me wheat meat.” His brow furrowed. “What about that ‘loin’ the other night?" 

"Soy protein,” said Hannibal, pouring the wine. 

There was a long, fraught pause before Jack started to chuckle. He raised his glass at Hannibal, shaking his head. 

“You sneaky son of a gun,” he said.


	15. Alpha/Alpha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By request from granpappy-winchester.

“According to Aeschylus,” said Hannibal, “Achilles was the alpha, Patroclus the omega. Plato disagreed. He called it nonsense to interpret Achilles as alpha when his was the more feminine beauty.”

“You disagree with both of them,” said Will, watching Hannibal in the light of the fire.

“Both Plato and Aeschylus were, in their way, bound by convention. When they imagined an ideal love, it was between alpha and omega. One provides, the other absorbs. It’s a fine model, as models go. But like all conventions, ultimately limiting.” 

Their eyes met over the wine. Will felt his hackles begin to prickle.


	16. Pokemon Hannibal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By request from soundingonlyatnightasyousleep, who wanted a Pokemon AU. XD

“I want you to know exactly where I am,” said Hannibal, “and where you can always find me.”

Ignoring the Ultra Balls flung by Jack and his team, Hannibal placed a gleaming red sphere on the ground. With a final, grievous look at Will, he padded forward and vanished into it. 

The Cherish Ball quivered on the pavement, then went still. 

Jack and the FBI team lowered their arms. They stared. The snow continued to fall, soft and relentless.

At last Jack bent to pick up the Cherish Ball. He weighed it in his palm grimly, then turned to Will.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr: unicornmagic.tumblr.com


End file.
